Schooly stuff
2011-05-11, 11:44 p.m.
Well, well well! I take a few moments from melting my eyeballs with my disgusting porn habit (L actually thought I�d been crying the other evening � didn�t like to tell him I hadn�t actually blinked for over an hour!) and all of a sudden Im writing to you lot!
I kinda miss the days when I used to update every 48 hours or so and I tried really hard to think why I don�t do that any more. Its not like I don�t love y�all any more � I love the crappy coziness of D�land and all the funny clever quirky people who chose to write here. I even kind of like those late night teenager updaters who are full of angst and anger and emotional trauma, and those kind of twattish pseuds who update with just a couple of enigmatic words � forcing you to trawl through their archives to find out what �Decimated Franco. His legions diminish. Carlotta brought pie at last� might possibly mean. Usually its something dull but, hey, we cant have everything, can we?
I kind of figure that my kids have something to do with my lack of updates these days. In the olden days, they went to bed at 8. Also in the olden days, L went to the pub at 7 and returned at about 11. I didn�t go with him cos the kids were in bed. Also, we had regular telly in those days so no Mythbusters, no Ace of Cakes etc etc etc. This left me several hours each night with nothing to do. . These days, Jooj stays up and talks about boys with me until L gets home. L gets home around 9.30 then me and Jooj talk about other stuff until I get bored with her and send her to bed. And then I talk to L for a bit when Im not satisfying my insatiable need for slightly fat men with impressive facial hair � that�s Jamie and Duff in case you thought I was still talking about L.
Anyways, I digress.
This next bit�s for Anna, cos I know she likes a school story. Work is kind of funny at the mo � the year11s are close to the end of their secondary education and their GCSE exams start in earnest on Monday. My boss appears to be a bit fucked off that Im not going to be working in ILN (Individual Learning Needs) next year and has started giving me strange and seemingly un-doable tasks to complete. Last week he sent me to a secure children�s home about ten miles away, to try to cram some knowledge into the head of a girl who is refusing to come to school.
As I was leaving he mentioned in passing that the week before the police had been called to �regain control� of the secure unit as the kids had taken over, in some kind of riot type thing. He was laughing as he was telling me how the girl had bit, spat at and slapped her carers.
When I got there, she wasn�t there. She�d absconded. Yesterday I went back. She was there, sulking at a table, flicking through The Daily Mirror. I talked her through her exam timetable, chatted about nothing, shared a bit of gossip about school. I said �you want to have a look at this English Paper 1, seeing as you�ve got your exam on Monday?� She unfolded her legs from the chair and leant across the table, propped up on her elbows, sighing sulkily. 45 minutes later we�d finished the comprehension part and we�d worked out how she could finish the rest of it. I closed the paper and we went back to chatting. She asked me some stuff about lessons, told me she was embarrassed to come into school because the care home has tagged her to stop her running off again. I told her I�d find out what she wanted to know and I�d go back the next day (today) to let her know what I�d found out.
When I got there this morning, she came out of her room, looking sheepish. She had her school uniform on. I didn�t comment but I let her know what Id found out for her and we worked through a Preparation for Working Life paper. At 11 o�clock she got in my car and I drove her back to school with me. She says she�ll come in to school tomorrow. We�ll see.
I wanted to write something here about porn but I keep writing and rewriting and it just comes out really trite and contrived. I�ll work on it cos I think Ive got a relatively interesting tale to tell (with plenty of opportunity for knob-gags and stuff to make you snort coffee outta your nose) and I haven�t written about the joys of marital gymnastics for a while here.
So, no nekkid people then, just the news that my dozy great husband has been jolly silly boy again.
The kids persuaded me to have an Easter party, which meant that the Easter tree had to be a bit more impressive this year
and David and Venus had to have new outfits, of course
Anyways, it all went swimmingly and I got pretty drunk. Not horrible drunk, just drunk enough to be giggly, stupid and a bit embarrassing. Particularly with regard to Jooj�s boyfriend�s dad, who came to pick him up at midnight. I think its important to make a good first impression, so I met the nice gentleman for the first time, barefoot, drunk, and dancing on the little round tree island in the middle of our street with Jooj having a piggyback, squealing and trying to hold the back of her cocktail dress at least mostly over her knickers.
Jolly nice party it was. Anyway, when most people had gone and me and my family were yapping about nothing and studiously ignoring the washing up, My husband came in, said �Happy Easter� and gave me a mandolin! Yay!
We are completely skint and have been living off Lidl beans for months but L, in his infinite wisdom, decided our household money would be better spent on a musical instrument that I cannot play. The dozy great pillock. Still, it�s a lovely instrument and Ive learned three chords already. My fingers are killing me!
Later
S
x
Dumbass things my students say #2
Miss, I cant do this, can you do it for me?
No.
Awww, c�mon Miss, why not?
Because it wont help either of us. You need to know how to do it, and Ive already got my Maths O Level. AND I didn�t have anyone to do it for me, AND my teachers were a lot more horrible than the teachers in this school, AND I was wearing beige knee socks and a straw boater while I was getting my O Level. Now get on with it, you slacker!
Miss, I don�t mean to be disrespectful�..
But you�re going to be, aren�t you?
Oh, Miss, you know I love you. You�re, like, the best teacher in this shithole, but really? A straw boater?..............How long ago WAS that?
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